ILHABELA

Nina

I've been taking you to the four corners of the world, but today the destination is much closer: right here at home! And let's face it: if you're going to stay close, make it Ilhabela, an island paradise. Come with me!

Dogs are the best thing ever—nobody disagrees with that—and Nina gave me one of those stories that deserves to be turned into a book.

Every Thursday, when I'm in Brazil, I have a quasi-religious commitment: dinner at my favorite restaurant. If you want to meet me, just stop by that day. A reserved table, outdoor seating, ocean breeze, and, of course, when I tell this story, always accompanied by my faithful companions, Pipoca and Pulguinha.

That night, everything was going well—until I was disturbed. At the next table, a couple was having a peaceful dinner with their dog, who was free to roam the restaurant. And there I was, glaring at them and thinking, "It's because of people like that that they then ban mine! Where's the common sense? So much leeway!"

My indignation was so evident on my face. Suddenly, the couple looked at me and said, " She's beautiful, isn't she?" He followed us down the street all the way here.”

Oops! Moral of the story: don't judge a book by its cover; much less humans by their off-leash dogs. The little dog in question was actually a stray. And there I was, acting as an enforcer of canine good behavior. So, since I'm already familiar with the house, I went to the kitchen and asked the chef for a special dish for her. With the pan in hand, I led my new friend to the parking lot. She devoured it all, gave me a look that said "thanks, human"... and went on her way, like someone with the whole world to explore.

A week later, towards the end of my running training session, a four-legged runner appeared, unceremoniously stuck up next to me and decided to accompany me home as if we had been a couple for years.

When I arrived, I went straight to get her water. Fair enough, right? She ran with me; she deserved proper hydration. While she was drinking like someone who'd just crossed the finish line of a marathon, my husband appeared at the door, looking like he'd seen this movie before, and asked, "Did she find you and come with you ?"

Still panting and with my brain in "post-workout exhaustion" mode, I could only manage a confused, "Huh?" Seeing my questioning expression, he laughed, pointed, and reminded me, " That's the dog from the restaurant!" It turned out to be her.

Needless to say, she was officially invited to come in and settle in with us. Pipoca and Pulguinha, the canine hosts, watched her with suspicious looks, a mix of "who is this intruder?"

The day passed peacefully, as if she had always been a part of the house. That night, we improvised a bed. What would we do from then on? We didn't know. Everything was new. One step at a time, like in a good race.

The next morning, I went out for a walk with the three of them—yes, three!—and that's when that little dog's life took a turn worthy of a Hollywood movie plot.

Since I didn't have a leash of the appropriate size, I improvised: a bow, a string, a little trick. She, of course, thought it was strange to be tied up, but she held firm. As soon as we reached a safe place, I let her go: "Go, enjoy your freedom!" And she... took advantage, running like a crazy woman.

At the end of the street, a group of people was walking toward us. From afar, we could see excited friends, high energy, a walking style filled with laughter, and white wine at the end.

But what really caught my attention was one woman in the group—a magnetic presence. Black, tall, slender, with a colorful scarf in her hair that turned every step into a parade. Bracelets, necklaces, earrings… everything about her exuded charm and a sophistication that made me want to give a standing ovation. I stood there, mesmerized by that exotic and natural beauty, when, BAM!, my contemplation was brutally interrupted: the dog jumped on her. Yes, ON TOP! Two paws on the woman's chest. How embarrassing! I immediately ran to apologize, wanting to dig a hole and bury myself, makeshift collar and all.

The girl, somewhat confused, watched the situation as if trying to decipher an experimental theater piece. Meanwhile, the boy next to her—who I later discovered was Chico, her husband—was completely mesmerized by the dog. Love at first sight.

I soon discovered that the lively group was a team of friends who meet annually at my neighbor's house. Nothing more, nothing less than the crème de la crème of the University of São Paulo. Today, they're all renowned professionals, with titles that would make even a NASA astronaut's resume envious. Seriously, I felt so intimidated I almost bowed, like the kind you do to kings and queens.

Between conversations, the couple started praising the dog's beauty. Without thinking twice, I blurted out, " Want to adopt her? She's not mine ."

I could see the sparkle in Chico's eyes . Valéria, the elegant woman, hesitated: "Oh, we can't... we're just visiting, and we don't even have a car." But I was possessed. Taken by an end-of-month salesmanship, I responded with the agility of someone who urgently needs to sell to meet a target: "I'm going to São Paulo tomorrow, I'll take you! Just give me the address."

Yes, me, delivering dogs. They exchanged a knowing look, a smile on their lips, and… the green light. And that's how, from an improvisation with a string, a story with a happy ending was born.

Arriving home, I began preparing for the big day. First, I gave the protagonist a refreshing, spa-worthy bath, complete with an ear massage. While she relaxed, I… didn't. I spent the rest of the day restless, with that classic feeling of anticipation that at any moment someone might knock on the door and say, "Well... we thought better of it... it's not going to happen."

But no. They just came to say goodbye, smiling, confident, going over the final details of the meeting the next day. Everything was fine. Too much so, I thought. And when everything is so perfect, that's when the universe likes to test us.

The trip to São Paulo was uneventful. Since I planned to deliver her after lunch, I thought it wise to take her to the vet first. After all, she had some spots on her body that intrigued me. A silly thing, I thought. Maybe an allergy. Stress. Little did I know.

The vet examined him, paused dramatically (which might as well have been set to a suspenseful soundtrack), and blurted out: “It’s mange.”

Scabies. Scabies.

For a second, everything spun: the office, the floor, the universe. It was as if I'd been pushed into a bottomless pit of silent despair. How was I going to tell that fancy woman from Jardins that the new addition to the family was suffering from scabies? And Chico? A doctor with a degree from the University of São Paulo! He's going to be furious with me!

I was practically in a trance, from then on, until I got to their apartment, I did everything as if I was on autopilot: body present, mind in panic, trying to think of elegant ways to say “sar-na”.

Valéria

Upon arrival, I was greeted with great enthusiasm. Valéria greeted me as if we were childhood friends: "Would you like some coffee?" Pause. I don't like black coffee, but it was almost two in the afternoon; I'd last eaten at four in the morning. So I accepted. And I filled the cup with an absurd amount of sugar to stave off my hunger. What you won't do for a little animal...

As we sipped that sugary coffee with the scent of anguish, I noticed that in the corner of the room there was already a spotless bed waiting for its new resident. And wouldn't you know it, she went straight to it? She lay down, already feeling like she owned the place, sighed, and fell asleep. That's it!

But the grand finale was still missing : talking about scabies.

I took a deep breath. I tried to start subtly, my voice completely inaudible, explaining that she was a scab. But there was no way. I had to rip the band-aid off immediately: "So... we took her to the vet and... well, she has mange."

Valéria looked at me, and mere seconds seemed like endless hours. But then she smiled: "Don't worry! Chico is a doctor. He'll solve this problem with a single step."

Chico e Nina*

At that moment, I wanted to kneel and thank the patron saint of animal rights activists and veterinarians. I maintained my composure on the outside, of course, but inside, I was slowly collapsing with relief. From then on, the conversation flowed smoothly, filled with laughter and newfound affinities. And there, on that unassuming May afternoon, a friendship was born, one of those rare ones that we know, deep down, is here to stay.

She lived with them for about fifteen years. She was pampered with gusto, loved intensely, treated like a queen, and, above all, recognized as an essential part of the family. In return, she brought love, joy, and silent lessons that only animals can teach.

In August 2024, Nina passed away. She left behind a heartwarming story, one of unlikely encounters, sincere affection, and bonds that not even time can erase.

Dona Dirce

Dona Dirce is one of those people who defies definition. A woman of strength, tireless courage, and a giant heart—a force of nature sent by the Universe.

* Believe it or not: Chico doesn't have a single photo with Nina! I was shocked to find out, but thanks to the advancements of Artificial Intelligence, we've achieved a digital miracle!

Text - Consulting and Revision Arthur Barbosa